Slight Misunderstanding
by Dude13
Summary: Not knowing exactly whether one happens to be of the male or female persuasion isn't exactly as fun a predicament as one might think. [Oneshot]


Nothing much to say except...enjoy!

* * *

"BENEVOLENT LORD ON HIGH, I THANK THEE FOR THY KINDNESS!" 

The jubilant yell seemed to reverberate all the way from the depths of the cellar to the heights of the attic of the massive Victorian mansion. No sooner had the scream nearly deafened half of the house's residents, it was immediately followed by a wild bout of triumphant squealing.

Recognizing the voice instantaneously, a very panicked Mac made a hasty dash into the foyer, skidding to a clumsy halt as soon as he spotted the hysterical redhead flouncing about merrily, resembling some overgrown forest sprite.

"What? Frankie, what is it?" he yelped worriedly, scampering forward to give a quick tug upon her emerald jacket. "What's wrong-_HEY_!"

The child squeaked with shock as the madly giggling caretaker effortlessly swept him into her arms, lifting him high into the air as she beamed an extraordinarily radiant smile.

"It happened! It happened! It happened! It happened!" she laughed, trembling uncontrollably with mirth. "It really happened, it really, really, really, happened! Oh my God, I don't believe it!"

"Whoa! Whoa! _Whoa_!" Mac wailed as she spun about the room like a scarlet-haired ballerina, hugging him closely all the while. "Stoppit! Frankie, what are you talking about? What happened?"

"I'm gonna be completely free from debt, _that's_ what's gonna happen, pal!" Frankie hollered joyfully, pausing her victory dance to thrust a letter into the stunned child's face.

"But I don't know what-" the perplexed boy murmured as he tried to bat the obtrusion away.

"It's called "Leaders of Tomorrow", it's a local charity, see?" The girl explained ecstatically. "See, it's where graduates like me fresh out of college can apply for a contributing philanthropist to help them pay off any loans the student has left to pay off. It's kinda like a post-college scholarship."

"Wait…so you really mean…" Mac bubbled, quivering with delight as he cracked a colossal smile. Frankie grinned and nuzzled him affectionately.

"Yes! _Yes_! They accepted my application! Me! They actually _accepted_ it! It's all right here in the letter! No more financial worries for me, _ever_! WOOHOO!"

"Lemme see!" Mac squealed ecstatically, now reaching wildly for the letter. "Lemme see! Please!"

"Hold on, pal, gimme a moment!" Frankie laughed, settling herself on the stairway and positioning the child safely upon her lap. "I'll read it to you! Hold on, just hold on…..ahem…. "Dear Mr. Francis Foster, Congratulations on being accepted by the Leaders of Tomorrow Foundation for College Graduates…"

"You did it!" Mac cheered, wrapping his arms around her neck in a congratulatory hug. Frankie giggled and tousled his hair affectionately as she read on.

"…Your story of triumph and tragedy about raising your adopted little sister on your own has truly been an inspiration to us all. So, in reward for your impressive character and excellent college marks, Mrs. Nora Hearthstone will meet with you Thursday night, the twenty-third…"

"That's _tomorrow_!" Mac squealed, wriggling about excitedly.

"….to interview you and Mackenzie personally to find whether you qualify for her family's prestigious scholarship. Congratulations once more, and we wish you the very best of luck!"

Frankie laughed uproariously as she gave Mac a squeeze. "Did you hear that? She's gonna be _here_! Tomorrow!"

Mac chuckled in unbridled glee as he eagerly returned the hug. "I know, I know! Just like the letter said!"

"Yup, that's me they're talking about!" Frankie announced proudly with a wink. "There're gonna visit me! _Me!_ Francis Foster, and my adopted….little…sis-"

The words died upon her lips as soon as she realized something was terribly, _terribly_ off. Wide-eyed with horror, she glanced furtively down at Mac, who unfortunately was barely in any better condition – his jaw hung limply and his skin had gained a sickeningly ghostly pallor. For a few seconds, all either of the two could do was glance back and forth into each other's eyes and then back at the letter.

Fortunately for them, it was barely a question of "why" as much as it was a matter of how long it would take to find the culprit of the atrocious misunderstanding.

"_BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!"

* * *

"….A joke? A _joke_? A _JOKE_? YOU SCREWED AROUND WITH MY APPLICATION AS PART OF SOME STUPID JOKE?" 

Bloo shivered violently in blind terror as the deafening volume of the outraged redhead's shrieks practically flattened him against the chair.

"I-I…." He sputtered dumbly, trembling wildly with fright as he tried to avert his gaze from the bloodthirsty young woman and the raging fire in her eyes. "I….was j-just a little bored, and…a-and I th-thought it'd b-b-be f-funny if I-"

He elicited a low squeak of gut-wrenching panic as Frankie nabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him a hairsbreadth away from the horrifying grimace adorning her face.

"FUNNY? YOU'D THOUGHT IT WOULD BE _FUNNY_?" she bellowed incredulously.

"Y-yeah…"

She narrowed her eyes vehemently and jabbed behind her.

"See? See that, Mr. Comedian? See who _that_ is?"

The horribly quivering little blob peeked meekly over at the stonefaced eight-year-old standing nearby, glowering angrily at his creation.

"It's M-Mac…" Bloo answered in a barely audible whisper.

"Now look at me." Frankie growled, pointing furiously at herself. "Can you tell who _I_ am?"

"F-Frankie Foster?"

"And…." She hissed expectantly.

"Um…uh…Madame Foster's….g-g-granddaughter…?"

He squealed in horror as she hefted him high entire the air, shaking him violently like an azure rag doll.

"If that's the truth, then _WHY_ on my application did it say that I was a twenty-two-year-old _DUDE_ named _FRANCIS_ living with his adopted little sister _MACKENZIE_? Can you _PLEASE _tell me _THAT_?" she screeched, nearly straining her lungs to bursting point in the process.

"I thought I'd be funny! I told you! I told you!" Bloo wailed as he flopped about wildly in her iron grip. "I thought you'd double-check it before you sent it! Honest!"

"You told me that you _opened_ the envelope and _then_ you made the changes before sealing it back up!" she corrected him fiercely. "Why the hell would I check it after I got it all ready to be sent out?"

"I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!" The little imaginary friend screamed, seconds away from having a slight heart attack in his unfathomable terror. "Frankie, _please_! Don't! I though it'd be funny! H-honest! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

However, fortunately for the little miscreant, even while in the throes of a murderous rage, it simply wasn't in Frankie's usually compassionate nature to violently harm so close a friend, no matter how much of a thorn in her side he was. Just as Bloo was expecting to be violently throttled, he yelped in dismay as he abruptly felt her release her tenacious hold, allowing him to tumble back into his seat into a pitiful heap.

"You have absolutely no idea how lucky you are, Blooragard." Frankie snarled. With this last threat, her volcanic fury suddenly seemed to drain away from her body, fortunately only to be rapidly replaced with an expression of aggravated worry.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…." She moaned, massaging her temples furiously as she plopped herself into a nearby vacant seat.

"So…what are you going to do now, Miss Frances?" a very properly accented voice interrupted her while she stewed in a tragic mess of self-pity. Frankie groaned as she glanced up blankly into the eyes of a puzzled imaginary rabbit, seated and waiting politely behind his massive oaken desk. This had been the first time he had spoken up since the caretaker had dragged Bloo in for the massive interrogation session earlier. He had probably kept his silence more or less for the sake of waiting his turn, but Frankie couldn't help but assume he had also enjoyed a certain azure blob's torment a considerable amount.

However, that was hardly her top priority at the moment.

"What?" she murmured weakly.

"Well, I'm sure this is hardly a matter for you to get in such a frightful mess about." Mr. Herriman explained rationally. "After all, I'm sure that you can simply call them right now and clear up your minor mistake and-"

"No! No! _No_!" Frankie immediately squealed in terror, tugging wildly at her crimson locks wildly in her hysterical fright. "Oh, dear God no!"

The elderly rabbit cocked an eyebrow, sorely perplexed. "Miss Frances, all I suggested was-"

"Don't you get it?" she cried, slamming her fists hard upon his desk. "The two things that "Leaders of Tomorrow" cares about the most are final grades from college, and _character_."

"Yes, but-"

"AND I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT LYING ABOUT MY GENDER COUNTS AS GOOD CHARCTER!" Frankie lamented miserably before burying her face in her hands with a dejected moan.

"Wait, so are you trying to tell me that-"

"Well, what else can I do?" she grumbled unhappily. "There's no way I can tell them what happened and try and get away with it, and my could-be sponsor comes _tomorrow_ _night_!"

For a few tense seconds the two stared at each other in a dead silence, Frankie looking as if she was on the verge of hyperventilation, and Mr. Herriman carrying a rather stoic, no-nonsense expression, barely even looking slightly frazzled by the entire predicament.

"If you see only one option left to take in this mess, then so be it." He finally declared rather flatly, much to her surprise.

"Huh?"

"You do realize that by now I fully expect you to be able to be mature enough to handle such difficult situations on your own, correct?" he asked her bluntly.

Frankie nodded softly. "I know." She muttered in a barely audible whisper. Foster's Head of Business Affairs frowned grimly before continuing.

"In that case, even despite the unique nature of the situation, I'm afraid I must leave this all up to you, Miss Frances. You're a grown young woman, and thus you should possess the maturity and skills you'll need to get through this on your own."

"Yeah, but-"

"Furthermore, I must decline any involvement in solving your dilemma here serious as it is. If things get terribly out of hand, as President of Foster's it's my duty to make sure that the good name of Foster's doesn't get smeared in the process of whatever happens. Thus, I am unable to volunteer to assist you in this predicament. Do I make myself clear?" he explained laconically.

Frankie let her head droop as she went limp in her seat, hardly in any position to argue.

"I understand, Mr. H."

Finished with the stern declaration of his neutrality, the rabbit tucked his paws neatly behind his back and hopped out into the foyer, leaving the frenetic young woman to mull over her absolutely ludicrous situation. Bloo hastily scrambled down from his seat and made his exit as fast as he could, hardly wishing to stay around and remain the bearer of the brunt of most of the redhead's left-over fury. However, judging by the deep dejection in her eyes and the manner in which she anxiously chewed upon her lower lip, it was clear the girl was hardly in any mood to burst into another fiery eruption of seething rage.

"So…what are we gonna do now?" Mac managed to whimper, plodding over to give her a light yank on her sweater sleeve. Frankie cut the perfect picture of abject misery as she shut her eyes and elicited a long, painful sigh.

"I think we both know _exactly_ what we gotta do now, pal." She muttered frankly, forcing the eight-year-old to emit low whine.

"I was really hoping you weren't gonna say that…" he gulped nervously.

* * *

_Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong!_

"Hello?" The over-aged brunette inquired gently as she rang the doorbell again. "Hello? Is there anyone home-"

"Hold on, I'm coming, I'm coming!" someone suddenly hollered. A moment later the door was flung open, revealing a very disheveled-looking and out-of-breath young man.

However, as soon as she laid eyes on what was no doubt her financial aid candidate, Mrs. Nora Hearthstone couldn't but help but instinctively feel that something was slightly amiss.

But what _was_ that "something," exactly?

Was it the boy's dress? No, his jeans, thick gray fleece jacket and baseball cap seemed to be unsuspicious enough. Was it his expression? He did seem a bit frantic, and slightly frazzled. But then again, _all_ of the applicants she met were like this during their meetings. Well, was it his looks? Maybe the slight oddity was in his physical appearance. Much to the fellow's surprise, the philanthropist leaned forward a bit to take a good long look at the young gentleman.

The old dowager suddenly broke out into a devious grin. Yes, that was it. Never in her life had she seen a fellow look so…so….so….

_Handsome_.

"Francis Foster, it's _so_ good to finally meet you!" she cheered excitedly, darting forward, and wrapping the startled Frankie in an iron-tight welcoming hug. "Are you doing tonight, honey?"

"Uh…h-hi….I'm a l-little nervous, I g-guess…" she murmured, to which Mrs. Hearthstone only chuckled heartily as she withdrew from the surprise embrace.

"Oh come now, dear, it's not a problem! Everyone I interview always have butterflies in their stomach at first, but it won't be so bad." The old woman encouraged her warmly. "Honestly, it'll hardly be the terror you young folks make it out to be."

"Haha…" Frankie tittered weakly, readjusting her cap. "Yeah, it's just…um…I guess that-"

"Oooooh, I almost forgot!" Mrs. Hearthstone giggled excitedly like an overeager schoolgirl. "You're the kind young soul who actually adopted the little girl, didn't you?"

"Yeah-"

"Such a wonderful essay you wrote! Oh goodness, such compassion I've never seen before in _any_ of our applicants! My I see the little lady, please?" the elderly widow trilled, gazing at the caretaker imploringly. "Just for a little bit, Francis, I promise-"

"Oh no, not a problem!" Frankie blurted out, hastily backing off a little. "I actually think he-um, uh, I mean….er…"

The girl threw in a few hearty fake coughs to cover up her near-fatal slip. "Ahem, uh..I-I mean _she's_ right nearby, I think! Hold on!"

The "young man" cupped her hands over her mouth and hollered as loudly as she could.

"Mackenzieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Come into the foyer, please!" Frankie yelled. "There's someone here to meet youuuuuu!"

However, when no one responded to her plea, the girl craned her neck to flash a quick apologetic glance.

"Heh…sorry, you know how kids can be…"

"Well of course, I-"

"MACKENZIE FOSTER, YOU GET HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT, YOUNG LADY!" Frankie bellowed, stomping her foot and in absolutely no mood to deal with any tomfoolery in so delicate a situation. For a few extremely awkward moments, the young woman fidgeted about wildly as she waited for a certain someone to answer her impatient cries. Fortunately, just before she was about to let loose with another lung-bursting scream,

"I…._hate_….you." Mac declared flatly in a venomous whisper as he ruefully plodded by her into the foyer – now of course dressed in a frilly green dress and a ridiculous curly jet-black wig, with special things to the local costume shop. Frankie whimpered softly as she squatted down to give him a hasty pat on the back.

"Just for a few minutes pal, that's all I ask for." She pleaded gently.

"That, and all of my dignity, too." The little boy replied snidely before putting on a frightening forced smile as he faced the peculiar widow.

"H-hello, ma'am….please…to….m-meet….you…" he managed to greet her, and although it obvious took a considerable amount of effort on his part, Frankie couldn't help but sigh heavily in relief as she noticed that he did the whole thing in a comical but somewhat believably high-pitched tone of voice, ended off with a light curtsy.

"Well," Frankie announced with a casual shrug. "Here she-"

"Oh Francis, she's absolutely _adorable_!" Mrs. Hearthstone squealed, making a beeline for Frankie's adopted "little sister."

"Oooooh, you should've at least sent us a picture of her in the application, she must be the cutest thing I've ever seen!" she cooed, scooping up the child into her arms.

"Wait, don't-" Frankie tried to interject, but it was far too late – Mac was already being drowned in a hail of kisses and pinched cheeks.

"Who's a little doll? Who's a cute little doll? You are! You are! Yes you are!" The widow giggled madly, coddling the clearly uncomfortable child close. Mac thrashed about wildly in the iron tight hug and flashed Frankie a pitiful glance, which she promptly responded with a wry grimace. By the look on his face, it was blatant the boy was struggling to keep from screaming in terror at the top of his lungs or projectile vomiting in his disgust from the shower of unwanted affection.

"I'm really glad you like her, ma'am," Frankie began to explain slyly, slow edging close. Suddenly, with a few lightning-fast movements, she lunged forward and roughly yanked the eight-year-old free, hastily settling him back upon his feet. "But it's actually time for Mackenzie to get to her homework, see, and I don't-"

The old woman opened her mouth to protest, but didn't emit so much as a surprised gasp. It was obvious to her that any such action was absolutely futile, seeing that the only trace left of the child was the sound of "her" footsteps as she little one dashed madly up the staircase and to the safety of "her" room.

"If you say so, then." She muttered glumly, to which Frankie cracked a weak grin as she watched her little brother flee to safety.

"Well, now that she's gone, I guess-_EEEK_!"

The caretaker practically blew her cover right then and there by letting loose with a high-pitched girlish shriek of surprise as soon as she distinctly felt a hand brush none-too-lightly against her rear, followed by what she thought was a brief titter.

"_Whoa_!" Frankie squealed, quickly putting some space between them. "What on earth was-"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The old woman chuckled apologetically with a weak grin, patting the stunned girl's hand reassuringly. "Never mind that, it was all just a slip of the fingers, I guess. You know how as old folks can be a little clumsy, eh?" She laughed.

"Um, right…slip of the fingers…" Frankie chimed in with a few chuckles of her own. "Well, I'm all set, I guess we can do the interview in the living room over there, if that's quite all right with-"

"Lead on!" Mrs. Hearthstone cheered ecstatically, eagerly latching onto the lanky redhead's arm and leaning heavily against her. The caretaker instinctively paused for a moment, slightly taken aback by the old woman's overbearingly "outgoing" demeanor. Combined with her rather insincere apology for that earlier "mishap", something seemed terribly…terribly…._wrong_.

Frankie nevertheless brushed the whole thing off as nothing to worry about as she led her possible sponsor into the living room.

To a certain authoritarian rabbit that had been coincidentally passing by on the way to his office however, to think of the whole thing as unimportant seemed like the utmost blasphemy. Mr. Herriman paused near the staircase, paralyzed with shock at the utterly bizarre spectacle he had witnessed.

What on earth had been wrong with that woman? He had expected nothing but a well-composed philanthropist from high society, not someone who appeared to act more like a mental patient freshly released from the loony bin. What was with her all-too-friendly personality? Those bizarre, touchy-feely mannerisms, including that rather unsettling "slip of her hand"? And the entire time she had been talking, did he detect a distinct _purr_ in her voice?

Mr. Herriman mulled over the ugly facts for only a second before he made an immediate beeline for the nearby living room, taking up position near the entrance and allowing himself just enough leeway to narrowly spot the two figures within.

To hell with what he had said earlier. True, it was extremely important that he keep Foster's honorable reputation intact.

But making sure Frankie was all right in the company of such a shady character?

That was hands-down top priority. End of story.

* * *

"…So you've been employed here at home ever since you graduated, am I correct?" Mrs. Hearthstone inquired as she took a seat upon a comfortable-looking sofa. Frankie nodded furiously in reply but then quickly put a halt to her enthusiastic response, for fear of whipping off her cap in the process. 

"Uh, yeah." She murmured, licking dry lips as she sat down in a nearby armchair. "My official position here is Estate Manager, but honestly, for the most part I spend my time cooking and clean-"

"Sweetie, there's no need to be shy!" The dowager suddenly hooted with laughter, much to Frankie's bewilderment.

"…. Huh?"

"No need to be so bashful." The widow continued, patting the cushion next to her invitingly. "After all, how can I get to know you better if you're sooooo far away?" she teased, much to the caretaker's slight discomfort.

"Um…I….I guess." The dumbfounded redhead muttered as she cautiously arose from her seat, furiously trying to hide the vibrant scarlet tint that had appeared in her cheeks.

"Oooooh, someone's blushing!" Mrs. Hearthstone cooed teasingly. "Is a certain young man feeling a little sheepish today?"

"Uh…no ma'am." Frankie blurted out without thinking. "Hold on, I'll just take my seat and-"

Frankie paused briefly before sitting down. She wasn't sure if it was just a trick of her frazzled mind, but for a moment it sounded like someone nearby or something …well, _growled_.

"Did you here that?" The young woman inquired softly, forcing her guest to burst out into laughter.

"Dear, are you really so desperate to keep from giving an old geezer like me some company?" she chuckled, trembling with mirth. Frankie cracked a weak grin as she wrung her hands nervously.

"I…I guess not. I'm sorry."

"Not to worry, dear. So you're just a mite shy, nothing to be worried about." The dowager trilled, giving her a reassuring pat. However, Frankie couldn't help but try and suppress a violent shudder as that pat was directed upon her _thigh_, and not her shoulder, and a bit too high up there for her comfort. Frankie hastily recoiled a bit, puzzled. What on earth was wrong with this woman?

Just before she could take this thought any further, Frankie's head perked up as she heard yet another peculiar noise. There it was again, that weird, _growling_ sound. What was that, one of the imaginary puppies playing nearby? If so, it seemed awfully fierce to come from something so small.

"Are you _sure_ you didn't hear that?" Frankie asked again, to which Mrs. Hearthstone responded with a slightly seductive grin.

"You little rascal you, are you _still_ trying to worm your way out of this? There's no need to be scared, Francis. I won't bite, I promise." She joked, to which Frankie answered with a forced chuckle.

"Heh….heh heh….I guess not…"

"After all, working in this big old house here, I'm sure a strapping young man like you has more than the muscle you need to get through any trouble you face." She giggled, suddenly reaching forward and pinching Frankie's arm.

"Hey!" she yelped, scowling. "What was that for?"

The fiendishly creepy widow tried to flash an innocent smile, but to be honest it made her look more like a preying crocodile. "What was what, dear?"

"That…that…"

Frankie paused herself in mid-objection and peered towards the doorway. Who _was_ that? She could've sworn she heard a distinct snarl that time. For a few tense seconds, the girl couldn't help but glance back and forth between where she thought her mystery sound was originating from and back at the extremely peculiar mistress.

"Oh, come now!" Mrs. Hearthstone chuckled at the fidgety young woman. "Cut the theatrics, you card! Acting all bashful around an old maid like myself, you flatter me, honey!" she laughed, blushing a little.

"Y-you're welcome?" The caretaker responded dumbly, eliciting another giggle from the wealthy dowager.

"You're such a sweet young gent, did you know that?" she tittered. "Please, I told you before, there's really no need to make such a fuss here, I just want to know the deserving young man who'll receive my grant, that's all."

"R-really?" Frankie muttered hopefully, letting down her guard temporarily at the mention of her much-sought-after financial aid.

"Um…yeah…that's all, right?" The girl laughed nervously. Her sponsor nodded kindly, keeping her tone of voice soft and soothing as she slowly scooted closer to the unsuspecting redhead.

"Well of course that's all I want to do, dear. After all…" she added with a seductive bat of her eyelashes. "There's no reason for us to be so estranged with one another, is there, honey?"

It took a full five seconds for Frankie to realize that the old woman's lips were puckered and drawing close for a kiss. Comprehending the imminent danger she was in, Frankie elicited a horrendous screech of terror, hastily tried to scuttle out of reach, clenched her eyes tightly shut…

…And took at least ten seconds to fully understand that the ungodly show of affection had yet to take place.

Perplexed, the young woman cracked open an eyelid, which promptly gave way for her eyeballs to nearly bulge clear out of their sockets in her dumb shock at the ridiculous sight before her.

Mrs. Hearthstone emitted a muffled scream of dismay as she writhed about frantically in her tormentors glance. Moments before she could strike, a gloved hand had actually seemed to reach from out of nowhere to nab the foul seductress fully by her outstretched lips, trapping her in an iron grip. As the wildly thrashing temptress resembled for all the world a wrinkly anteater, Frankie was sure she would've nearly burst a gut laughing at the cartoonish scene had she not nearly been at the receiving end of such an unwanted advance.

For a few agonizingly tense moments, the caretaker couldn't help but remain frozen in place, utterly dumbfounded by the sight of Miss Hearthstone completely caught in the act. However, with that peculiar picture was hard enough to comprehend as it was for the befuddled young woman, Frankie felt like her mind was about to explode in a fiery eruption in overwhelming bafflement as soon as she recognized the familiar imaginary friend holding her tormentor firmly in place.

"Get out…_now_." Mr. Herriman growled vehemently, looking more like a rabid attack dog at the moment then the mere rabbit he really was. Mrs. Hearthstone took one glance at the raging inferno blazing in his pupils and instantly emitted another stifled screech, already half-mad with fright as the icy hand of pure terror took hold of her treacherous heart.

"You listen, you atrociously miserable excuse for a succubus, because I'm only going to state this once." He continued, trembling wildly in barely suppressed murderous rage. "You do not, and I repeat myself, you do _NOT_ lay so much as one overly-manicured nail upon her head, do you hear me? If you do so much as look as look at her the wrong way, then you'll immediately be putting your worthless life on the line, do you hear me? You do not make unwanted advances on house employees, and you especially do not so much as touch a hair on Miss Frances, do your hear me?"

In little position to worry about the mind-blowing fact that Frankie's true identity had been blown, Mrs. Hearthstone instantly went absolutely crazed with horror, thrashing about madly and letting loose with scream after muffled scream, completely intent on escaping the avenging demon dressed in rabbit's fur with her life intact.

"Oh no you don't, you ghastly old bat!" Mr. Herriman bellowed, giving her a firm shake. "Don't even think for so much for a second that I'll be letting you off that easily! You try and force Miss Frances as your mere plaything for you and your disgusting passions, and as God as my witness, I will not-_OOF_!"

Whatever solemn oath he had wished to make, it was never known. Before he could finish, the terrified philanthropist suddenly reached down into her nearby purse and hurled the first possible excuse for a weapon she laid her hands on, hitting Mr. Herriman squarely on the face with an extremely lucky shot. Yelping in pain, the imaginary rabbit instinctively released the tenacious hold upon his prisoner to tend to his smarting nose, leaving his prey completely unguarded. Screeching with a horrendous ferocity that an entire chorus of banshees couldn't watch, the old woman hastily scrambled to her feet and shot for the front door as if the armies of hell were trailing hot on her heels. Wailing as loudly as she could, Mrs. Hearthstone hurtled herself out through the front doors, threw herself into the front seat of her car, and with a screech of tires she disappeared into the night.

A deafening silence settled over the living room, practically vacant except for the dumbstruck young woman still seated upon the coach and her equally stunned employer, who was mortified at the unbridled rage he had just displayed. For a few moments, both remained as they were, stewing in a deathly quiet. Finally, after what felt like a painful eternity, Mr. Herriman took a few deep breaths, threw together what little composure he had left, the turned around to face whatever fate had in store for him.

"Miss Fra-"

He never got to finish what he wanted to say, nor did he - possess the further ability to do so – Frankie had rocketed from her seat and nearly choked him as she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"_Thank you_!" she gasped happily, her utter relief knowing no bounds at that moment. Stunned, the badly confused Head of Business Affairs struggled unsuccessfully to detach her vise-like embrace.

"Miss Frances, I-_ACCCK_!"

He gagged painfully as Frankie promptly tightened her squeeze, burying her head contently into the furry crook of his neck.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you…" she babbled over and over, nearly delirious with joy.

As she expressed her everlasting gratitude with a stream of incessant jabbering, the badly baffled Mr. Herriman finally managed to do complete the unthinkable and interrupt her constant chatter. "Miss Frances, I…um….I appreciate the warm thanks, of course, but…b-but your financial aid, it's….I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to….if I could only-" Frankie was nothing but all smiles as she peered into his eyes, beaming radiantly in her colossal joy. "What _are_ you talking about?" she giggled. "I-" "You saved me! You actually _saved_ me! I was about to get molested by a crazy old freak and you actually cared enough to save me!" she whooped, promptly giving him another nearly neck-breaking squeeze. " A creepy old lady was about to try and violate me, and you actually cared enough to save me! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank-" 

"But your college loans, Miss Frances, they-" Mr. Herriman tried to point out.

"Feh! Who cares?" Frankie laughed, quivering with merriment. "As long as I didn't get felt up by some loony old bat, I ain't complaining!"

"Yes but-"

"Mr. H, relax!" The caretaker chuckled merrily, playfully flicking his ear. "Don't worry about it! So I just gotta pay off my loans the hard way, who cares? We'll be just fi-"

It was then that she sensed the stunned eight-year-old at her feet, tugging wildly at her jeans.

But it was hardly the fact that Mac had promptly changed out of his feminine attire, or that he had most lonely been eavesdropping upon the entire scene, or even the fact that he had his eyes had nearly grown to the size of dinner platters that caught Frankie's undivided attention.

"I s-s-saw…w-when s-she threw th-the thing at M-M-Mr. H-Herriman…..s-she….s-s-she…"

His uncontrollable stuttering getting him absolutely nowhere, Mac shut his mouth tightly as he gently displayed what was probably the most massive wad of hundred-dollar bills any of them had ever seen.

Frankie's jaw dropped like a stone. "S-she…the old bat actually k-k-kept…a-a-and she…she….s-she…s-s-s-she…"

"Miss Frances?" Mr. Herriman inquired kindly, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Are you going to be-"

"DEBT _FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_!" Frankie shrieked joyously at the top of her lungs, practically deafening the other two present with its volume. Mac instinctively dropped the cash with a squeal of fright and scuttled under a nearby sofa, while Mr. Herriman hastily clamped his hands tightly over his floppy ears.

"Miss Frances, _please_!" he tried to bellow over the colossal screech. "Will you please – _MISS FRANCES_!"

He roared in surprise as without a warning, the madly giggling girl flung herself into his arms. Without even thinking he instinctively reached out and caught her, cradling her lanky frame as gently as he could.

"Miss Frances!" he clucked sternly. "What is the meaning of-"

The reprimand withered away upon his lips as the gleeful caretaker threw he arms tightly around his neck once more and without pause, showered his cheeks with a hail of outrageously sloppy kisses. Stunned, the rabbit's jaw hung limply as her moist lips dotted him all over his face.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she squealed, nearly bursting with unbridled merriment. "C'mere you overprotective lug, you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! "

"Miss-"

"Debt-free! No more college loans! No more greedy financial aid office stealing my money! No more! No more! No more!" Frankie yelped joyously between wet pecks. "Hallelujah!"

"Will you please just-" the badly startled imaginary friend struggled to protest in vain, struggling frantically to get a firm hold on the ecstatically squirming redhead lest her let her plummet to the floor by accident.

"Nuh-uh! I don't wanna hear it!" Frankie denied him joyously, jabbing a finger at the massive wad of bills. "Can you even _see_ how much cash the old bat left here?"

"I-"

"Just _look_ at it! Look at it! I didn't even think it was humanly possible to have that many greenbacks at once! I'll be able to pay off my loans completely by this time tomorrow! I'll probably even have some left over for…for…oh hell, there's enough in here pay off my all _my_ debts _and_ start a college fund for Mac!" she squealed, nuzzling Mr. Herriman affectionately in her unimaginable exhilaration.

"Miss Frances-"

"Y'hear that, pal?" Frankie hollered over to the nearby couch. "Do you realize what we can do with this kind of money? Huh?"

Still trembling uncontrollably from his nasty shock, the grievously frazzled eight-year-old peeked out from his refuge to emit a barely audible whimper, to which his guardian instantly responded to with a jubilant fit of laughter.

"That's right! That's right, pal!" she cooed in a sickeningly cutesy manner, completely unable to control herself in her triumph. "No more loans for me, and less loans for you when the time comes! And it's all thanks to"

"Please, all I ask for is-" The atrociously embarrassed Mr. Herriman begged, glowing a bright scarlet underneath his silvery gray coat as he felt her contently coddle up against him.

"No more debt for me! No more debt for meeeeeeee!" Frankie hollered to the high heavens, resuming her celebration by planting another ridiculously sloppy kiss on his forehead. "Oh my God, if you even think for a second that I'm done with _you_, Bunny, then you got-"

"_Miss Frances_!" The tremendously flustered Mr. Herriman managed to roar, his crimson blush so vibrant by this point that it began to noticeably show through his fur. "Will you _please_ stop?"

Eagerly tightening her hold, the young woman just chuckled happily as she playfully rested her head in the crook of his neck, forcing the whimpering creature to continue to cradle her as if she were an oversized infant.

"How about this?" she teased, flicking a floppy ear. "You use a little of the extra cash over there to buy a new change of clothes for yourself for once, and then _maybe_ we'll call it even…".

**The End**

* * *

Before anyone points it out to me, I'll be the first to say that Frankie was a bit over the top. But I'll be frank, I like writing those type of scenes with the characters acting so over-the-top. 

Ha, anyway, please review, all feedback is appreciated!


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